Drop in the Ocean: Retake
by Madam Mim
Summary: [HK] What happens after an esoteric and unsatisfying series ending? On hold, due to such things as life are made of, namely school
1. Wake

Drop in the Ocean: Retake

A/N: I might as well get started on this. Finals are fast approaching and my lovely English teacher just assigned an oral report over the weekend (how I loathe him…). As such I will most likely not be writing. Sorry! 

Disclaimer: Welcome to Fanfiction.net. If you think that any stories on this site have only original characters, you are sadly mistaken. It's not my fault if you don't know what "fanfiction" means. (GONZO Studios owns this one, gents.)

*~*~*~*~*~*~

The blue submarine slunk leisurely through the Pacific. Sunlight filtered through the water, and reflected in beautiful, twisted patterns that flickered across the hull. The propellers did not create much of a disturbance to the marine life, for they were in friendly waters and need not travel quickly. Pointed at Japan, it made good progress; everyone aboard was all to eager too be home. 

The paint job and design with this particular sub was interesting, and for a reason. It was modeled after a killer whale. A blue one, albeit, but a large killer none the less. If it felt guilt, no one knew, but some of its occupants were uneasy. One might wonder why a person who had those kinds of feelings would be in the military. They wondered too. 

I realized this was a dream a while ago. Only my dreams would be so devoid of people, even if this was a dead city.

Why do I keep walking? I should just stop and wait for the dream to end. It's the same for miles and miles: broken, dilapidated buildings, as hollow and empty as I am. Then there is the sea in its endless undulation. The waves lick at the path I take, and yet, do not quite touch my boots. Boots…? 

I tug at the clothes I am wearing. It's a Blue 6 jumpsuit, one of the newer ones. The uniform was different when I first came. Guess they changed it since the…the….

Court martial, just _say_ it. It's done and finished. Time to get over it. 

I turn instead upward, to the sky, brilliant with its unnatural colors, but one look at it and you remember the world is doomed because of it, because of _him_.

Ha, I'm starting to sound like Kino. She's not in this dream, though I almost expected her to be. She frequents my dreams like she does my shadow in waking.

Wait…didn't something happen, didn't we do something? Something important, at the top of the earth, and it stopped all this, stopped the world from flooding….

But it's hard to remember. 

It's been quiet until now, nothing but the waves sliding back and forth from the shore to rejoin their fellows in the sea. No longer….

Now there are footsteps. I stop breathing for a moment to make sure they're really there. 

They are. And now each step comes faster and faster from behind me. The bulky shadow in front of me augments with each passing second. I turn around to see the great creature, clearly not a product of any natural occurrence. It's screaming and screaming, and it sounds almost human. It transfixes me, and it's as if I don't notice that it's coming right at me. As it crashes into me, everything blacks out and somehow I register that the dream is over. 

* * *

Tetsu Hayami sat up alarmingly quickly on the infirmary cot, nearly ripping out his stitches. It was not a pleasant way to wake up after sleeping for so long. He fell back on the sheets, aching from the bruises he didn't remember having. What he could remember, for this short time between sleeping and first awakening, were the dreams he had been having. But soon, they were gone in an instant, their cryptic meaning lost, to the pain he was experiencing in the here and now. 

Slowly he brought his hand to the beads of sweat on his forehead. It was hard to move it, he soon saw, because a white bandage was tightly wrapped around it. He tried to place where he had injured it, and why. The morphine began to lose its bewitching hold on his senses and he recalled all that had happened since he and Kino landed on Antarctica, which he had been trying so hard to recollect in his forgotten dream. He ran his thumb down the line of his teeth, checking to make sure each small enamel square was accounted for. They were, surprisingly.

When did that happen? Or all this? he thought, groggily looking over his doctored body. As the infirmary came into focus, halting its cursed spinning, he cringed. All along, he knew he would be there, but he still hoped he was in his room where no one would be compelled to bother him. He was in a public place and he didn't like it one bit. 

Reasoning that he was in here to rest, he shifted to find as good a sleeping position as he may. He stopped when he heard rubber soles squeaking on the steel and mats. After a moment it was obvious the shoes were headed for the infirmary, so he slumped back on the thin pillow and pretended to sleep. Soon, the door was eased open with a hideous and painful creak. Both he and the person at the door winced.

"Hayami?" a voice called softly into the darkness. "You awake?" The owner of the voice emerged from behind the door and turned on the overhead light unmercifully. He flinched and, squinting tried to make out the person behind the purple spots.

"Ah…Kino?" he asked with a groan. 

Hesitantly, she stepped nearer to his cot. She smiled a little, "Yeah. How're you doing?" She couldn't help but look vexed. His pallor was unnerving, like he hadn't seen light for a long time. Which he hasn't, she reminded herself. She reached for a chair. 

"What're you so worried about?" he asked, seeing her expression. 

She blinked, not expecting the question. "Oh, well, you were out for a week on all the sedatives they gave you. You don't look so great either." A week was a long time to be sedated, even for those injuries. However, they had apparently found some illegal drug substances in his body from the blood test. They didn't tell anyone and flushed the stuff out, just as a favor to Hayami for his service. What was slightly upsetting to her was that they said he probably took them right before setting out. 

Not that she was surprised.

"Oh," he said. 

"Yep," she replied, shifting uncomfortably. This conversation was going nowhere, and she couldn't think of anything to say.

"So…what's been going on in the world?" he asked.

"Hm? Oh, yes!" she said. "A bit. We started tracking down rogue pilots and destroying bases a few days ago." Hallelujah, something to talk about. 

"Really?" He quirked an eyebrow, and put his arms behind his head.

"A Grampus took some damage to the left wing last time."

"Does that always happen?"

"No, they fight back, but they're alone in open water. It's easy to pick them off, you should have no trouble—oh, I mean…."

He shifted a little.

"You could—"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Oh," she said quietly. Of course he wouldn't bother to stay. He never said why he saved them, anyway, and he was obviously a drifter. 

The flow of conversation was dead, killed by Kino's slip. Hayami saw she was uncomfortable around him. If she doesn't go in a few minutes, I'll think of something to say, he thought. Just so she doesn't feel so uneasy.

The minutes passed, or seemed to. He wasn't paying attention to actual digits, but the way she glanced around the room or clenched her fists. He drummed his fingers for a moment.

"How's your back?" he asked suddenly.

Her eyes snapped back from the clock to him. "It's fine, just bruised."

"That's good."

Why did her face feel hot all of a sudden? "Thanks…. Uh, I'll—I'll let you get back to your rest, now, OK?"

She stood up, and paused. Then, she quickly grasped him in a hug. Hayami felt the blood rush to his face, and just as he brought his arm up to return the gesture she pulled away. She didn't offer any explanation except a nod, and quickly left. He simply stared after her, confusion plain on his face. Falling back to the cot, he closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep soon and prevent him from thinking about…things, like her and her baffling personality.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: This is better, don't ya think? 


	2. Mutterings and Musings

A/N: Eeps, what fun. Yep. Funfunfunfunfunfunfun.feeling cynical today. By the way, I forgot to mention that I am open for any type of review, even flames, although I will laugh at your immaturity and overall loser factor.  
  
On a note about the change of point of view in the first chapter (from third to first to third again), I am consulting people more learned than I in the laws of prose about this. I really could not write that little bit in third person, because I didn't want it to seem like the readers were standing off to the side watching him act and think in the dream. It was really a lucid dream, and I wanted the reader to experience it as if we were him. When I looked at the way the text appeared on the actual site, I saw the space between the POV change wasn't as pronounced as I thought it was. Damn webpage.. Blah blah, getting all goofy on you people.scus(.  
  
Disclaimer: Do. Not. Ask. Me. If you need to ask, go away please. Hmmm, I must come up with something clever like this every chapter (this is sarcasm, by the way).  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Kino shut the steer door of the infirmary as nonchalantly as possible. If she slammed it then he would know it had taken all of her courage and recklessness to embrace him like that. Close it too quietly and he would think that she did stuff like that all the time.  
  
"Cripes, I'm over analyzing everything again," she muttered. "And now I'm talking to myself." Conversing with oneself or unseen beings was one of the warning signs that someone was going to have a nervous breakdown. It happened often enough in the military that complete lists of the symptoms were posted on nearly every room. She allowed herself to sigh and slide down the wall, knowing it couldn't be heard in there.  
  
It was annoying; the infirmary was just far enough away from her haunts to make her late for every job she had afterwards, even if she had just poked her head inside for a minute to see if he was awake. "I must be turning into a stalker," she thought. "Oh well." She checked her watch, and concluded that she wouldn't eat dinner today. Like yesterday: it was too late. What she wasn't sure of was whether Tsuji's curry was worth seeing Hayami alright and surprisingly talkative without that detrimental spin he liked to put on everything.  
  
She allowed herself to close her eyes and rest for a moment. Hopefully, she wasn't forgetting about some job she still had to do, that is, besides the ones she actually remembered presently. Everyone was being overworked, yet she wasn't dealing with it well because she had someone to worry about. The other crewmembers were happy as clams-why shouldn't they be? The world will stay its same polluted self, just not overpopulated anymore.  
  
That was cynical of me, she thought. Why should I be bitter? Well, I suppose there are lots of reasons..  
  
Suddenly, it occurred to her that the Captain might want to know that Hayami was awake. She looked at her chunky rubber watch again. There was still maintenance she had left to do in the hanger, but his office was on her way. She would rather have avoided Captain Iga altogether, as he was still pretty miffed at her. Yet, this could just be part of her lousy campaign to redeem herself. Kino wouldn't lower herself to brown-nosing (not that anyone would, it was embarrassing for both the noser and the nose(); she was simply slightly more helpful than usual.  
  
"Why should he be upset? I'm so overworked, small wonder I lost my concentration," she grumbled while she made her way through the dim corridors of the sub. All too soon, the Captain's office door came up on her right. She stared at it for a few seconds, reasoning that maybe the medic had already told him. Then, she heaved a sigh and knocked on the door.  
  
She thought she heard an affirmative noise from within, so she cautiously inched the door open.  
  
"Sir?" she asked.  
  
"Yes, what is it?" Iga said from his desk.  
  
She opened the door all the way, but did not intrude. "Uh, I just thought you should know Hayami's awake."  
  
He kept scribbling on his paper. Inwardly he smiled a little: Kino would be the first to know if Hayami had woken up. "That's good."  
  
"Um, all right, then," she said, thinking her job was done. Before she could move the door an inch he spoke again.  
  
"I trust that now we won't have any more accidents like yesterday, then?"  
  
She winced. "The Grampus was only grazed on one wing, and I've nearly finished-"  
  
"Are you saying it will happen again?"  
  
"I-no, sir."  
  
She opened and closed her fists. He finally looked up from his desk. "Thank you, that will be all."  
  
She nodded curtly, then shut the door, perhaps a little more forcefully than was necessary. "How many times do I have to apologize before he gives it up?" she seethed. "Stupid git. Cyah.." It was interesting how different the real world was from school. The Naval Academy didn't sugarcoat it for anyone, but the teachers still made it seem like commanding officers were so admirable because they were good enough to be in that position. Yet skills and intelligence didn't necessarily pair with tact and courtesy. Hayami was one, if not the best, example.  
  
"He did it again!" she thought. That bastard was always weaseling his way into her thoughts. It was just an infatuation.wasn't it? She couldn't tell anymore. All she knew was that she didn't like sleeping anymore. It took up too much time; time that was best spent repairing any damage done by her lack of focus. And that wasn't her fault: Hayami wouldn't stay out of her head and she wasn't getting enough sleep as it was...  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: You know, methinks I slipped some British slang in there....ah well, Monty Python will do that to ya... 


	3. What could a wrench symbolize?

A/N: Well, le grande vacances is upon us, and you'd think I'd have oodles of time (how much is an oodle, anyway?) to write and all. THIS IS NOT TRUE. I must dispel this rumor that people actually have time on their hands during the summer. I'm taking an AP course next year (several years early, so this is my first college-level course), and we have five essays plus reading over the summer. Fabbity. 

Disclaimer: Oh, here's an idea! If you really, _really_ wanna know, then find out for yourself. : P 

Hm, I wonder if they have Sarcasm Management courses….

*~*~*~

Hayami had grown accustomed to staying in bed for weeks semi-consciously, so he was able to get up and act normally the next day. Sitting on the cot, he stretched his bed-sore limbs. He did so very slowly because of the few stitches he still had left—many had been snipped the other day. 

He hadn't slept at all after he'd first woken up; there was too much for him to think about. He didn't know what to do with himself now that the war was over and his purpose served. He hadn't thought about what would happen after they won the war, mostly because he hadn't expected them to win. The decision to rejoin Blue was split-second, reached only moments after Kino had first stormed out his door. Perhaps if he had allowed himself more time to examine the circumstances, he wouldn't have landed himself in such a precarious situation. And he had been dwelling on this for many hours. Unfortunately, he'd once again come upon a solution that his anti-social self didn't like. 

It had started off as a joke to himself, and if he hadn't had so much time to himself, then it might have been left at that. But the idea proclaimed itself as not only perfectly plausible, but good for him, and therefore sat stewing in his head. He twisted his waist to work out the kinks in his spine. It cracked unpleasantly.

He stretched his arm as far as it would go, then deemed himself ready to leave. He picked up the T-shirt on his cot and gingerly pulled it over his head as he walked out the door. 

The submarine's corridors were poorly lit, as usual, making the new steel appear lackluster and grey, instead of the white shine it sported in proper light. It was dark enough that his eyes needed to readjust from the brilliance of the infirmary. All in all, the place was dank and depressing, yet it suited his mood well.

A sub's hallways were dangerous, really. They were narrow and full of doors that opened outward. You could hardly tell when they would swing out in front of you; Hayami was one such victim. Another step forward and he would have been knocked asunder by the creaking metal plates. Glaring, he waited for the offender to come into view.

There were 97 people on Blue 6. And the one person he somewhat concerned himself with appeared with a box of tools and wires in her arms. Without looking back, she stepped out, pausing to shut the door with her foot, and continued on her way.

How convenient. 

He stood, watching her walk, and debated whether or not to acknowledge her and to ask her his question. However, it was not something he was quite prepared to do. 

Those jumpsuits really aren't very flattering, he thought. Kino was lithe enough for it to be tighter. As it was there was too much oxygen between the cloth and her skin. Then again, it would be distracting, and she herself was too amusing to get hung up on the vessel her spirit inhabited. 

Hayami's mind gallivanted all over the place, and sometimes rolled near or into the proverbial gutter in the few minutes it took for Kino to walk the length of the hallway. The bend in the path came sooner than he expected. He blinked and it was enough to set his mind on target.

"Kino," he called out. His tone was almost admonishing—as if he was slightly annoyed at her for nearly walking off without seeing him. 

Kino jolted a little, and then turned to face him. Surprisingly, Kino looked relieved to see it was him and not someone else. Needless to say, that threw him a bit.

"Oh," she said, seeming genuinely taken aback. "I didn't think you'd be up so soon."

He shrugged, as usual, not caring about his health problems. 

"How are your…" she gestured towards his side uncomfortably. He couldn't tell if she felt that way about the wounds or if she merely thought she should be asking. 

"Mostly out," he replied. "'S really alright."

"Good," 

The infernal silence crept up between them, again. It seemed to follow them around, springing up and wrapping its arms around them at the uneasiest moments. A bomb could go off next to them and they'd never hear it; their insecurities and doubts clogged their ears.

Kino shifted the box, and the clatter of cords and tools worked better than an alarm clock. The reminder scared off the quiet early. "I just remembered—Captain Iga wants to see you."

"Oh?"

She nodded, "Yeah, he's in the cockpit, probably. Come on." She waited a few seconds for him to catch up, then continued on through the labyrinth.

Hayami wished he knew how to make conversation. And yet he usually never wanted such a skill. People and small talk were things to avoid, like rabid animals.

It must be the pink hair, he thought. It made her so many things at once: bold, a teenager, little concerned with what others thought…. And she'd kept that color for months, so she was either too proud to admit she mad a mistake, or knew what she wanted. It wasn't neon pink, either, so she wasn't doing it just to turn heads. It was a dullish sort of pink, like it had a bit of black or brown mixed in it.

He came up so that he was walking next to her. Reaching into the box, he picked up a wrench. He didn't get very far with it, as it was so entwined with red and yellow wires that was practically leashed like a dog.

"What's this for?" he asked, vainly trying to see where the wires ended or began.

"Grampus," she answered. She pulled him down another corridor by means of the wire and a tilt of the head.

"Is that all you do? Just work on a machine, and shoot things with it?"

"You make it sound so trivial," she huffed indignantly. "Where should I go that I don't use a machine, so it doesn't offend you?" She jerked the box hard enough to yank the wrench out of his hand.

In one smooth motion her hand shot out to catch it while her knee came up to steady and hold the box. Hayami's hand also stretched out, but she grasped it first.

"Sorry," they both muttered curtly. He slowly retracted his arm from across her face.

"I didn't mean you should go live in the woods, just because I said so," he said. "Just wondered if you bored with it or felt any kind of irony."

She looked up at the ceiling in an exasperated fashion. "Please. It's a new crisis everyday and there is no irony. I break it, I fix it. I don't take _orders_ from it. You did this, too."

"Yeah. But with me it was an art."

She shoved him. "Yes, too bad you suck now," she retorted, and started walking.

"What?"

She didn't answer. After a moment, she asked, "What did you really mean?"

"Hm?"

"Don't try to feel superior by asking me about irony. You're just argumentative."

Huh, she nailed it, he thought. Anything to push her buttons.

"You can't spend all your time babysitting the Grampus."

"I don't confine myself to my job description, if that's what you're thinking."

That over-achiever, she wouldn't. "Such as?"

"Programming, computer repairs," she mentioned coolly.

Damn her, that was actually worthwhile.

She sighed. "Carrying heavy objects," she continued. The box rattled for persuasion.

Hayami smirked.

"Escorting greenhorns to the cockpit."

He frowned, "What?"

"Hm?"

"I'm not green."

She rolled her eyes. "Everything isn't always about you." 

As she pushed the door open with her hip, she added, "But that was."

"What? I was here before you."

"And you've been gone for nearly two years."

He glared at her, though only half-heartedly, as he held the door for her. Well, she wasn't one to get hung up on awkward silences, that was for sure.

The final doorway led them to the cockpit. "I could've found it," he muttered to her.

"Could have," she retorted.

"Don't argue semantics with me," he said, even though he loved arguing with her and getting her angry. He could use a spirited conversation right now.

She gave him a look that said both, "Yeah, right," and "Bring it."

More people than usual were milling about. Parting the pond of people with his authority, Captain Iga made his way forward.

"Ah, you're just in time for the debriefing," he remarked noticing them. He went into a nearby meeting room, the others chattering and following him like baby ducks.

Hayami hardly noticed; he was too relieved. Until now, he had wanted to avoid Kino as long as possible because he didn't know if she would treat him differently after D-day. He hadn't realized how much it mattered to him. She was, after all, the first person to treat him normally. The court martial and all the events pertaining to him had somehow made him diseased, a person to treat differently, either delicately or without mercy. Then again, she didn't know, did she? Even if she did, he hoped her outlook on him hadn't changed.

With a sigh of defeat, Kino dropped her box and shoved it under a console with her foot. "Why'd you walk so fast?" she whispered, agitated.

No, it hadn't, Hayami thought.

*~*~*~

A/N: Wow, five pages…one for each day it was late! Sorry to the three people who read this, I really should get these things out within two weeks to a month. I also apologize for this lousy in-between chapter where nothing really happens except the characters are out of character (sheesh, Hayami's hard…I mean, I figure he won't be SO depressing now that he's redeemed himself with Katsuma and all, so we get a glimpse of what he was like before…er, drugs happened…riiiiight). 


	4. Sparks

A/N: I hope you all (that is, the two of you), reread that last chapter. A good friend of mine, who has her own distinguished stories up in the Harry Potter fandom, beta read for me. I was having real problems with that chapter because I put off writing it for so long…hehe. Anyway, big thanks to Aileron1! (Yes, it's Aileron1, I didn't forget to push the shift button that first time). 

Disclaimer: This is just a space for me to lash out at lazy, lawyer-happy nuts. 

*~*~*~

The lights dimmed as everyone searched out a seat. Kino and Hayami, being the last ones in, converged on the wall to the left of the front screen. The captain was adjusting a projector pointed at the screen with a laptop computer next to it. Kino slid down the wall and sat down, but Hayami reminded standing. 

"Sit down," she whispered. She elbowed him in his knee.

"Can't, it hurts," he answered, just as quietly. That was entirely true, but Kino couldn't help thinking that he wanted keep familiarity to a minimum. Conversation was one thing, but choosing to be the only people on the floor was another. And people on a sub were especially good at operating a rumor machine. What else was there to do, after all, than start rumors? She didn't let it bother her; he was bad company anyway.

"All right people, let's settle down," Iga called. "This is to update our current situation, and answer some questions. Everything's been really tight-lipped this past week, but we've got some new information from the on-land HQ. All I need from you is quiet."

Eventually, even the quidnuncs stopped talking, but not before getting out one last bit of second-hand information. Kino had, of course, given her entire attention over to the captain and glaring at the people still chatting. She wasn't a teacher's pet so much as she was eager to prove herself against the older crewmembers, being one of the youngest people on board.

A pale square of light shone on the fourth wall. Someone plugged in the laptop, and the white light was replaced by a green desktop image. 

Kino sighed. Anyone else would've set this up beforehand. No sense in making everyone wait, she thought, remembering the work still left on the Grampus. 

Yuri, the sub-captain, flipped the light switch, leaving the glowing projector the only source of light. Captain Iga stepped in front of the light, one eye closed; though if it was from the glare or from habit was anyone's guess. The effect of the light made him looked washed-out, and wearier than usual.

"I expect the rest of you to relay this information to the rest of the crew once we're through here," he began.

Several people nodded, including Kino.

He acknowledged them by tilting his head slightly before continuing. "After the NOVO operation was discharged, Sub 0 was escorted by Blue 7 to the Timaru port in New Zealand.It arrived there without any problems several hours ago."

Sub 0, the nuclear-armed typhoon submarine, had been their last resort against Zorndyke, but was not used at the last minute. As its twenty SLBMs (Submarine Launched Ballistic Missile) were set for simultaneous ignition, they were glad to see it go. All the same, the thought of any rogue Musacas or Kumos attacking it on the way made them all distressed.

"Will they deactivate it?" called Cekeros from the back. 

"The jury's still out on that," Iga responded.

There was murmuring amongst the group. "Does that mean they think they'll need it?" Kino asked Hayami.

"Knowing them, probably," he muttered contemptuously. A cigarette hung from his mouth, unlit.

That reminded her that his lighter was still in her pocket. She'd picked it up on the beach that day and forgotten to return it. Frankly, she was afraid to touch it, for fear of accidentally setting her pants on fire. Fine, she thought. Give his lungs a break.

"Let's focus, people," Yuri commanded loudly. The crowd's opinions on the nuclear torpedo fell silent at once. 

"Anyway, that aside, our only problem left now is politics," Iga said. 

"And what about the zealots who keep attacking us?" someone prompted.

"Do what we always do—kick ass," he replied, touching his hat. His eyes fell on Kino briefly.

Kino grimaced a little; with that quick glance he gave her. It was barely noticeable, but the message was clear: _Don't let it happen again_. Why was he still harping her about this? she fumed silently. One mistake and you're blacklisted. 

Hayami caught the exchange, she noticed. He raised an eyebrow, but chewed on the cigarette instead of commenting.

Iga tapped the laptop, and a slideshow with diagrams and photos from the Council began. 

"In case you've forgotten, let me remind what the Blue organization was originally intended to be. Blue was created one the basis of researching and solving the world's major environmental problems: world hunger, desertification, and improving the environment. One aspect was the development of marine research, as in the Oceania Marine Development Center. Along with the Air Independent Propulsion Research and System Development Center and the International Naval Academy, the objective was worldwide peace. 

"But the Zorndyke situation forced us to expand our military sect, and it was the first time that every nation on earth took part in generating a military unit. Of course the latest technology was used. Any single sub and her crew could only be matched by another Blue sub."

All were silent. Any one of his comments would have rendered an outburst or two, but he looked so weary that they could tell he was leading up to something crucial.

"And that bothers some of the smaller nations, since they think that a sub's country of origin automatically adds the sub to its arsenal. They want to know what's going to be done with the fleet now that its job is done.

"But I think our job is far from over," he added grimly. 

Frieda leaned forward in her chair. "What do they suggest, exactly?"

"The council is still arguing amongst themselves, but the original plan is being kept for now: the submarines are to go back to their home ports and give the crew a few weeks off—"

He was temporarily interrupted by clapping.

"—Eventually. It's supposed to go in shifts," he finished, invoking grumbling from the disgruntled crewmembers. The laptop slideshow ended with photos from a very tense-looking Council meeting. "Any more questions?"

"What about the enemy? What's up with them?" asked a voice from the back. 

"Negotiations and peace talks are the goal, but except for the ones on Antarctica, they've been rather hard to find. That's all we know now.

"Is that all? Right. We'll be pulling into Tokyo Bay in 52 hours; let's get this boat ready!"

The lights came back on, but nearly everyone had left by then.

"What was that all about?" Hayami asked.

"What d'you mean?" she said absent-mindedly. She was only half-listening, having completely forgotten they were docking so soon. Now she had to repair the Grampus wing in two days…it was possible, if she got started now….

And the people who could actually give her the parts were very possessive. She walked out of the room, and ducked down on her knees to retrieve her box under the table. She quickly yanked it out.

"Seemed like there was a lot left unsaid," he answered, following her out and peering under the table.

She straightened up and went down the main hallway. The Grampus' airlock and holding bay was in the belly of the sub, under the dorsal fin of the artificial killer whale. 

"But I've been out for a week…." He trailed off. "Is that really all that's been going on? Bhutan thinks India'll sail up the Ganges and launch missiles at it?"

"Don't be stupid: it'd make much more sense to come up the Brahmaputra," she said, and turned to face him. "It connects directly to the ocean, you see."

They both grinned. They were at the entryway to the Grampus chamber. Kino opened the hatch and slid the box down the entrance tube. It hit the opposite hatch with a loud thunk. She didn't need to carry it all the way down to storage. "Well, essentially that's all," she went on. "But that's been an issue long before now. There's also—"

She stopped suddenly, and looked at her watch. "Walk and talk," she commanded. "I need parts to fix this thing."

They set off towards the rear of the sub at a brisk space, but not so fast that Kino couldn't explain things. "This thing about what to do with the fleet is new; before they were just discussing reconstruction plans and ways to ward off Zorndyke's creatures from the coasts."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. No nets, but electrical impulses and high-pitched sound waves. They've used it for sharks and manta rays. There's a small device that emits the pulses. It's standard for divers and all boats now."

"Boats, too?"

She looked at him as if he were an idiot. "You're awfully quick to patronize them, but the bigger ones are known to eat people."

She muttered something about a "bleeding heart," but he took the point she made and didn't bother to argue. That suited her just fine. He thought more highly of the mutant species than she did. She knew her opinion was biased because the creatures killed her family, and yet she didn't care to change it. Not yet, at least. 

They went down a set of stairs to the lower deck. Kino had some request forms stuffed in her jumpsuit pocket, which she was hastily filling out on the way. When halting and scribbling on the walls became too tedious, she nicked a clipboard from the mess hall.

"Anyone's name on it?" Hayami asked as she snuck out of the empty hall. 

She turned it over. "No," she answered, and clipped her form to it.

"That's the great thing about the navy: half soldier, half desk job."

She frowned at the piece of paper she was writing on. "What about mechanic?" she supplied, not at all pleased with his degradation of her (proposed) life's work.

Maybe he was irked, or perhaps that was his bemused look. She could never really tell.

Just then, who should walk out from the stairwell but the Captain. 

Hayami looked at her. "He's come for the clipboard," he stated, with the same questionable look on his face.

She sighed, exasperated. He was probably right, the way her standing was with the Captain right now. Even though the very notion was silly, she hung the clipboard down by her side all the same, and kept walking. Hopefully they would just pass in the hallway.

But that didn't happened. Iga noticed them and stopped. "Hayami," he said. "I need to speak to you in my office sometime before we dock." 

He eyed Kino briefly. "You'd better come too." When he saw the look of absolute disbelief and vexation on her face he added, "It's not about _that_. Carry on."

"Aye, sir," she said, though not as forcefully as usual. She was relieved that he was off her case about the accident, but now Hayami would want to know what _that_ was. 

Hayami said nothing to Iga like always, but did ask what she had expected him to. If she was a more vulgar person, she might have told him to go away in a rather crude manner. As it was, she was not, so she just stared him down and refused to answer him. 

All-in-all, it did not help improve the image of her maturity in his eyes, but she would fix that later. 

* * *

After one more corner, the storage space opened up before them. Yet 'opened' was hardly the right word, as it was tightly packed with boxes and had a low ceiling. It was quite the contrast of on-land warehouses, not only because everything here was strapped to the floor. Blue 6 was known for its unusual maneuvers that often involved angle changes of more than ninety degrees.

The Supply Officer was no where in sight when they came in. "Hello?" Kino called. There was no answer.

"If you don't come out I'll just take the stuff and leave," she threatened.

Immediately a brown-haired man poked his head out from behind a box marked, "Food, etc."

"Oh, it's you again," he sneered. 

She just rolled her eyes and thrust the clipboard in his direction. "Here. Is this sufficient?"

He came out from his hiding place and snatched the papers from her. She wondered if seclusion made people so openly hostile, or it that was something you were born with.

He studied them for a minute, then said, "What is it you need?"

She stared at him. "It says so on the paper."

"Do you think I read the whole thing?"

"If only to prevent exchanges like this," she said logically. But she saw he wasn't going to budge. "A welding iron, mask, and a replacement cover for the starboard Grampus wing."

He nodded. "What about you?" he said, directing his question at Hayami.

Kino wasn't entirely sure why he was still here, either. Hayami was hanging back with his hands in his pockets. "I'm making sure she puts it back together right," he said.

"No, you are _not_," Kino huffed. She crossed her arms. "He's here to carry things," she said to the Officer.

"Whatever. Which part?" he inquired, walking back a few rows. She followed him, with Hayami trailing behind her, apparently because he had nothing else to do.

The brunet was taking apart a crate. "The piece by the front cockpit. Like this," she said, forming a trapezoid shape with her fingers. 

He began digging around in the box. Then, Kino noticed Hayami grinding the same cigarette with his teeth. She pulled the lighter out of her pocket and shoved it at him. He looked surprised to see it.

"I thought you could spare your lungs for a few hours, but now you're chewing tobacco and that's even worse," she said.

The lighter was on a piece of cord, and he put it around his neck. "Thanks."

She sighed, as if she couldn't believe he was thanking her for helping his addiction. Which was true, she realized as he lit the damp cigarette.

"Okay," the officer said. He pulled out a large steel part and handed it to her. "That's it right?"

"Yep,"

"Bring the old piece back here," he told her, and walked off to the left to the tools section.

"Pieces," she muttered. The blast had skimmed the top, but the force was enough to gouge and split the steel into two pieces.

He found the welding iron faster. Kino gave the cover to Hayami so she could accept the cutting torch and mask.

"You'll want this," he said, handing her a stained apron. But he was hardly friendly. She decided that maybe he was jealous of people whose jobs did not involve being the lord and master of a bunch of crates. In return, she gave him the most fake smile she could muster, and was off.

* * *

"Need any help with that?"

"You know, if you really wanted to help, you would have asked me that when we first left," Kino said irritably. "Just take that thing down."

She stood away from the hatch so he could open it and go down. When she heard the slight echo of his footsteps in the air lock, she pushed the welding torch in front of her and slid down the narrow tube. She hoped she wouldn't trip over anything with the cumbersome tool, like the tubes, as she was liable to do. What she couldn't decide if it was because she was afraid of breaking her legs or looking like an idiot in front of Hayami. He was so cool and collected all the time. She'd love to have a demeanor like that. How could a person who had no apparent direction in his life be so sure about every physical action he did? 

Then again, if that's what came with being an indifferent jerk, he could keep it. 

Her feet touched down without much difficulty. Before stepping completely out, she plunked the torch and its tank by her feet. 

Hayami was crouched on the wing, inspecting the damage to the Grampus with awe. "God," he muttered. "Why didn't it hit you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped. She could leave the tank where it was, as the tubes were four feet long. She got up and stood next to him, torch in hand.

"It missed you by six inches," he said bluntly, standing up.

"It just grazed the top," she grumbled. The Kumo had caught her off guard, during a brief second in which she had completely forgotten where she was and her mind was occupied with…other things. What those things, and the person she had lost her head over, were she would not admit to anyone. She could barely admit it to herself, because she was disgusted that she had allowed herself to be overwhelmed by things that were unimportant in the middle of a battle. Of course, the flash of light and the explosion of the torpedo from its tube had jolted her back to the situation, and she turned and ducked the mini-sub enough that the hit hadn't done as much injury.

"Well," he said. "What're you going to do about it?"

"Why don't you sit back and watch?" she retorted. But he didn't move, and neither did she. "I don't have time for this."

The torpedo had been hot and going fast enough to have torn open and melted the metal. It was a clear rip down the center of the metal plate, exposing wiring underneath, all of which led to the gun barrels on one side and the controls in the cockpit on the other. The heat had fused the pieces to the rest of the wing. She had to cut it free and burn off the access to replace the cover properly, and repair the wire damage underneath. All the rewiring she would save for later, as that would take time. This she hoped to have done in three hours. 

Kino put on the work apron and slipped the mask over her head. Hayami stepped back a foot or so. "There's a pair of goggles in the box," she told him, her voice muffled by the mask. He did as she suggested, and watched her start to sever the offending piece from the Grampus. 

Why was he still here? Once again, she had posed a question too difficult to answer under present circumstances. Welding was a great time to ponder the inner depths of this man's personality. To cut the piece in a straight line and in the correct place required concentration. What she did know was that he could probably care less about what she did to the Grampus. 

Yellow and orange sparks flew off in very direction, and already it was hot behind the smothering mask.

Yet having him breathing down her neck incited her to give one-hundred-and-fifty-percent. Maybe she couldn't pilot the thing as well as he could, but she could prove that she knew exactly how to make it run beautifully. Even so, which was better: a good driver or a good mechanic? 

*~*~*~

A/N: Huh, suddenly things get philosophical (if barely so) at the end. BUT THIS IS IMPORTANT! Even though I just came up with this two seconds ago, it would be a good allegory-type thing in the relationship: the 'pilot' and the 'mechanic.' I mean, they're literally two ends of a magnet, so why would the relationship between the two of them work out as opposed to with someone else? So what does a pilot do and what does a mechanic do? Blah. This is more of a reminder for myself than to insight you folks. Ha.

Also note: By the time I finished writing this, Aileron1 went and changed her penname to Ashwater. Oy. 


	5. Sans Medal

A/N: Sorry it's quite, quite late, but this AP course was HARD, and now I've got THREE more to get ready for.  Many apologies to anyone who was genuinely interested in this fic.

Ho hum, me hopes no one is looking for things to, hem, "heat up," as it were, right away.  Ha ha, nope.  As disappointing as that is, so far nothing in the last chapters have given any other indication otherwise, so you really knew that all along, didn't you?  Sigh. Hey, I don't like it either, all this tension and whatnot is a pain in the bum, so to speak.  But honestly, are Hayami or Kino the kind of impulsive people who fall all over each other two days after the end of the series?  Er, no. 

And THANKS to everyone who left reviews!  It is much appreciated.

Rating: PG-13 for future chapters and such. 

Disclaimer: Huh, well, what's left to say?  I'll think of something bitchy eventually.

            As much as he hated to admit it, Kino knew a lot more about the Grampus as he did, and was clearly the best mechanic he'd come across. He could see that in the way she repaired the wing.  She never paused to think or recall something; every action blended right into the next in a continuous stream.            

            It was like a stream of consciousness.  He knew what that was like, to get to so involved in making something that you forget your surroundings.  All that matters is the problem, the parts, and the tools.  Not like he did a lot of that anymore, unless his boat broke down.  It didn't break down often enough, he felt.

            Now he was back in the least of places he had expected to end up, though with considerable more hostility.  And all it took was some minor harassment on Kino's part.  He couldn't really tell if he minded being with Blue again, or if he should stay on.  After all, the only reason they sought him out was because they needed more men and couldn't train new ones fast enough.  What to do now….

            His eyes strayed upward.  The lighting in here could be better, he thought. The pale yellow beams illuminated everything on the mini-sub, but not nearly as much underneath it, where most mechanical repairs took place.  It wouldn't be so difficult to install some lights under there, with waterproofing for chamber floods.

            There was a loud scraping noise, a clang, then a pop, and finally, a curse.  This halted the progress of the gears turning in his head long enough for him to take interest in Kino's troubles.

            "What now?" he said. He climbed down to the floor so he could face her, on the wing, at nearly eye level. Apparently, she was trying to chip off the remaining layer of melted steel that had clogged up the screw.  "Can't you burn it off?"

            "If I want to melt the screw," came her reply.  She had a small chisel placed next to the partially exposed screw, and was twisting the hammer in her hand.

However, it slipped and that was the cause of her annoyance.  "Is that thing diamond-tipped?  That's the only way it's coming off," he said, leaning on the front of the sub.

Kino held up the chisel.  The end caught and twinkled in the light.  "Only the best," she said.  She tapped her fingers on the steel.  "Hold this thing."

It was just great the way she assumed he would do whatever she said.  Well, she usually ended up being right, he thought as he took the chisel and held it to the lump of metal. 

Clang!  The metallic sound echoed in the chamber.  A chunk of steel came away from the screw. 

"So," she said, "Is the jury still out?"

"On what?" he asked, flicking away the offending piece of metal.

"Your direction in life," she said sarcastically.  She glanced at him. "I'd have hated to be your high school counselor."

He smirked.  "Don't know. This organization is heading downhill."

"How so?" she asked tersely. 

"What're they going to do with these subs now that the threat is gone?" he countered.  "Sure there're going to be insurgents to deal with, but will we really need nine war submarines for that?"

"Seven," she said.

"What?" he looked up.

"Two were destroyed," she mumbled. 

Neither of them said anything.  Hayami watched Kino's face as she continued to chip away to uncover the screw. 

Finally, she asked, "What would you do instead?"

"Back to salvaging," he said, adjusting his grip on the handle.  "It's not like it's too different from being in Blue, anyway."

"Is too!" she exclaimed.  "It's completely different!"

He smirked.  "Sure it is, like I can do whatever I want for whatever reason I want, and I get paid more for playing fetch."

She glared at him.  "Cynical bitch," she muttered, which only served to stretch his grin wider.

"_You'd_ have no problems in that business with a mouth like that," he commented.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped.

"What'd you think?" he asked.

"…Cyah," she muttered.  She gave the chisel another thwack.

The screw was nearly free now, a sufficient amount of refuse having been cleared away by their persistent efforts. 

"You're good at this," he said suddenly.

"Huh?" she asked, dumbfounded. 

"Not so much as a pilot, but as a mechanic…" he added offhandedly. 

Used to this sort of thing, she merely gave sighed exasperatedly and aimed for a particularly stubborn bit of metal.

"Useful in salvaging," he commented, looking at her.

She paused.

"…Have you ever—Watch it!" He dropped the chisel just as her hammer swung too low and clanged against the metal. 

She flinched, color coming to her cheeks.  "I'm sorry," she said quietly, picking up the chisel.  Placing it in the groove he'd made, she began to hammer restrainedly. 

Hayami put his hand over hers on the chisel.  "If you'd pay attention for just a minute I'd—"

"Captain wants you!" cried a voice from the hatch.  Immediately they jumped apart, both waiting for a swish and the appearance of feet from the hole.  The dirty soles of Cekeros slid down, followed by the rest of his slipshod appearance. 

"Hullo, gents," he quipped.  "The Captain has requested the two of you to see him in his office presently."

"How stuffy," Kino remarked.

"Yes, that's what I told him," he said, grinning.  "O' course...he would tell me what it was for.  I can only speculate."

"I'm sure you do," she said curtly. 

"You bet," he winked.  "I'd get up there, if I were you.  He's impatient, as usual."

He glanced at Hayami, now indifferently rubbing metal dust off the edge of the chisel.  "_You_ too, big shot."

Many trees had died to make his job possible.  With the end of major fighting, the Blue organization had ordered that all operatives write a final report of the battle for future reference.  And, as Iga had soon discovered, many of his "operatives" didn't know how to write reports.  Most of them were in dire need of revision, and Iga had decided that no one else on board could be trusted with such a task.  As such, the desk was awash with papers.  Even his cup of coffee had to be perched precariously on a stack of manila folders for want of space. 

It was downright comical.

Hayami smirked as he sat in the chair before the cluttered desk.  Kino was beside him, looking tensely about the room.  The office was really just a separate space off of Iga's cabin, and was small and dark, lit only by the glaring desk lap.  It cast dark shadows onto the brown walls and the captain's weary face as he wrote. 

They sat there for several minutes; the Captain was in no hurry to acknowledge their presence as of yet.  Kino tightened and loosened her folded hands, her eyes gazing at the dark, beige ceiling.   Suddenly, Hayami tapped her on the arm.  She looked at him, and he pointed bemusedly across the cabin.  A large blue swordfish hung placidly on the wall, frozen forever by the miracle of taxidermy. 

Kino pursed her lips and sat up straighter in her chair, as if that would somehow make the fish less humorous.

"I suppose you're wondering why you're here," Iga spoke at last. 

Neither of them said anything.

"I suppose it goes without saying that you two are rather popular with Blue right now," he went on, laying his pencil to the side and meeting their faces.  He smiled wanly. "And as such, you have some medals due you.  They've scheduled an official ceremony for—"

"I decline," Kino said in a quiet voice.  She stared at her hands, which were folded tightly on her lap. 

"What?" Iga asked, dubiously.  He stared at the top of her head expectantly. 

"I'm flattered you think I deserve such a thing," she said, as if she had practiced these lines, "But I'm sorry you mistook foolishness for bravery."

Hayami frowned. Her expression was unreadable, and her train of thought even less so.  She was calling all her misery and grief foolish? 

"Well," Iga folded his hands, "I suppose there's nothing I can say to make you change your mind?"

Eyes still downcast, she shook her head. 

He sighed in his usual gruff manner, and sat back in his chair.  "And you don't want it either, right?" he asked Hayami.

"No," Hayami replied simply, still slouching in the seat.

"I guess you've made your decision about us then?" Iga inquired, tapping his fingers on the desk.

Kino watched Hayami out of the corner of her eye, laying her hands flat on her thighs.

"You could say that," Hayami said.  "When I resolve things with here, I'm gone."

"Resolve what?"

"I don't do something for nothing."

Kino glared at him, but he just glanced at her briefly and continued shrewdly.

"It did remind me of how useful a good mini-sub can be."

"You'd use the Grampus for salvaging?" Iga indignantly cut through Hayami's business-like evasion of his flat-out wants.  "How could you possibly keep that thing in good condition in your blasted hovel?"

Hayami cocked his head towards Kino.  "That's why I need her." 

A/N: (Hayami) Who else would clean the floor with a toothbrush?  (Looks at Kino) And don't you step on no more needles.

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